


Of the Same Stock

by neenya, SanDoria, WriteThroughTheNight



Series: Since the Beginning [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AFTG Big Bang 2017, Alternate Universe - Good Omens Fusion, Angels and Demons, Illustrated, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 11:59:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11713977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neenya/pseuds/neenya, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SanDoria/pseuds/SanDoria, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteThroughTheNight/pseuds/WriteThroughTheNight
Summary: They are in Spain for the Inquisition where they set fire to their nearly identical commendations, and in France for the Revolution where they both nearly lose their heads. They are in China, in Mexico, in England, in Egypt. They are in the trenches of WWI and the concentration camps of WWII, but the common thread of all of these is that they are together. Angel and demon, side by side, letting the humans write their own history. And if Andrew thinks sometimes of writing his own history down upon Abram's skin, of pressing lips and putting in the effort, of feeling with the one being he trusts...Well, there's just nothing for it.ORAndrew and Neil are an angel and a demon respectively, and they still end up playing Exy.





	Of the Same Stock

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm so excited to present, finally, my Big Bang! This was the first time I've ever done this, and it was an amazing experience. My two artists, [neenya](http://neenya.tumblr.com/tagged/i%20made%20this) and [SanDoria](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SanDoria/pseuds/SanDoria), were absolutely wonderful and created some incredible art for this fic. SanDoria's piece appears at the beginning of this story, and neenya's is in the middle. Thanks to [ OrdinaryVegan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/OrdinaryVegan/pseuds/OrdinaryVegan) who betaed this story for me!
> 
> This fic is loosely based off the book Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, but you definitely don't need to have read that to understand this (though I highly recommend the book). There's several lines taken directly from Good Omens, and I poached a decent chunk of dialogue from The Foxhole Court. This fic is set around the first book. The rest of the series is in the works as well, but will be published separately from this.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

 

Prologue

 

It's a nice day.

All the days have been nice. There have been rather more than seven of them so far, and rain hasn't been invented yet. But the clouds massing east of Eden suggest that the first thunderstorm is on its way, and that it's going to be a big one.

Andriel, angel of death and destruction, more recently the guardian of the Eastern Gate, glares up at the sky as the first fat drops of rain begin to fall, plastering his fine blond hair to his scalp. Human forms are the worst. The serpent by his feet gives a strange hissing laugh.

"You're rather angry for an angel, you know. Are you sure you aren't fallen?"

Andriel turns his flat glare from the sky to the serpent at his feet. The damned thing that had started this all, the apple, the fall of Adam and Eve, the collapse of paradise. Idly, Andriel wonders what the reward would be in Heaven if he simply stepped forward and crushed the demon underneath his heel.

A traitorous part of his mind whispers that he shouldn't be so hasty to destroy the one creature that has made existence _interesting_. Free will. A strange thing.

"I hate you." Andriel tells the stupid serpent. Somehow, the demon does something similar to smirking, red form twisting and swaying, blue eyes knowing.

"Aren't angels all about love? And telling the truth?"

Andriel feels his hand drop to his sword without his consent, ready to just stab the creature and be done with it. He's reminded, abruptly, that he no longer has his sword.

The damned serpent notices the aborted motion.

"Hey, angel, didn't you have a flaming sword?" 

Andriel fights to keep his expression neutral.

"You did, didn't you?" The serpent says. "Flames brighter than my scales." 

"No."

The demon keeps pressing, grinning as much as he's able. "No, no, you did. It was very impressive, I kept waiting for you to impale me. Lose track of it then?"

Andriel glares harder, wishing for the first time that he had kept the sword, just so he could make a shish kabob of the serpent (not that shish kabobs are invented yet either, but it would still be immensely satisfying). "I don't need a sword to kill you," Andriel tells the serpent. He truly doesn't, could kill the creature here and now easily. He doesn't, because that same traitorous part of him that gave his sword away and admires the humans likes the snake trying its best to smile at him. Some angel he is.

"I'd take you down with me." The serpent promises him, and for a brief second, Andriel believes him. "Seriously, where is it, I'm _dying_ to know."

Andriel grits his teeth, and thinks briefly of his twin angel Ariel, likely up in Heaven and laughing his wings off at Andriel's bad luck. But Andriel is stuck down here, with no one but the humans and this demon for company, and he comes to a decision. "Truth for a truth."

The serpent gives a full body shrug. "Okay."

Andriel clears his throat, and turns his eyes to something on the horizon. "The humans were freezing. That woman was pregnant. I doubt _He_ created the monkeys just so they could die. I gave her the sword, told her to do everyone a big favor and not let the sun go down on them." She thanked him, something fierce and interesting in her eyes, and even though Andriel feels the missing weapon like a hole in his side, he doesn't regret it. 

"Guess you're an angel after all." Somehow, the serpent doesn't sound disappointed. "Might get in trouble for that, yeah?"

Andriel shrugs, face blank as he can make it. When he speaks this time, it's truth. "Don't care. My turn. What's your name?"

That gives the serpent pause, and he looks... thoughtful. It's a strange look on a snake, and Andriel almost wants to laugh. Almost. 

"Haven't decided yet. I was Nathaniel, but that's too close to _Him_." There's a note of fear in the serpent's voice. Andriel wonders whether Him is the Almighty or the Morningstar, and then reminds himself he doesn't care.

"Pick a new name." 

The serpent looks surprised. "Yeah, okay. I'll let you know when I decide."

"Why? I don't care," Andriel says, flat as he can make it.

"Liar."

"Demon." 

They regard each other, sworn enemies, polar opposites. It's the most entertainment Andriel has had in ages, since Before. 

"I keep wondering," and Andriel himself wonders if the damned demon ever shuts up, "whether the apple was even the wrong thing to do, if it's all part of the plan. Funny, if we were playing the wrong parts, eh? Maybe I'm the angel and you're the demon."

"Shut up."

The serpent rolls its eyes. "I'm making conversation. What do you think?"

"Ineffable," Andriel finally says, and doesn't elaborate. It's not something he wants to think about. It bores him. Everything bores him, Andriel has found, except the fumbling humans that no angel can predict. 

That finally shuts the serpent up. "Yeah. Guess so."

They sit in silence, as thunder begins to growl among the hills. The animals, freshly named, cower from the storm. 

Far away, in the dripping woods, something bright and fiery flickers among the trees. 

It's going to be a dark and stormy night.

 

Andriel becomes Andrew, changing as the times do.

The serpent becomes Abram, becomes Namtar, becomes Yassaf, becomes Stephanos, becomes Christos, becomes Aleksander, becomes Peter, and so many more between.

They're assigned to Earth, the both of them, told to play with the humans, to wage war against the other. Instead, they spend a lot of time throwing words instead of weapons and forgetting which roles they're supposed to be in.

Andrew keeps his same basic body, blond hair, gold eyes, even as it's replaced time and time again, he changes it only enough to blend. Abram (because until the serpent chooses his new name each time, Andrew needs something to call him, and the Name is clearly Off Limits) changes into someone different each year, new hair color, skin color, eye color. He's never anything close to what he was as a serpent, never a red head with blue eyes, although Andrew suspects that it's Abram's most basic form. 

It doesn't take long for Andrew to discover Abram is a terrible demon. The first hint comes not long after the first storm, when Eve's children are just toddling. 

Andrew makes himself invisible, content to just observe the family and their strange, wonderful life, until he notices the oldest of the brood is missing.

With a bit of focus, he locates Cain and the serpent, now appearing as a man. The demon is teaching Cain to climb trees. 

After the third time the serpent uses a bit of power to catch the boy before he falls, grinning up at him, Andrew clears his throat. The serpent jumps, dark eyes wide as he catches sight of Andrew.

Andrew looks between the hand the serpent has on Cain's small back and his too innocent face. 

"Some demon you are." Andrew says.

The serpent waves his free hand dismissively, but still, Andrew notes, keeps his other on Cain's back.

"You have to think long term! I'm teaching him mischief and agility so he can be a better agent of hell, right buddy?" Cain lets out a sound that Andrew wasn't aware human vocal cords could make. He thinks the word for it is giggle.

"Up, 'bram, up!" Cain squeals. With a sheepish look at Andrew, the serpent swings Cain up into his arms and then down to the ground. Unfortunately, this means that Cain catches sight of Andrew and barrels into his legs. "Andwew!" 

Andrew smothers his first desire to peel the kid off him, the touch turning his skin too tight. He pats Cain's head and ignores the demon's smirk. "Go help your mother." He tells Cain, and the boy scampers off.

"Charity, nice, but that one is going to be one of ours." The serpent says, still with that damnable smirk and leaning against the tree.

"We'll see. Abram?"

The serpent shrugs. "It's not quite right, but it'll do for now."

Andrew nods, filing the information away. His orders are to lead the humans toward goodness, and thwart the actions of the demon Nathaniel, now Abram. For something to do, Andrew thinks he may even carry out half the orders.

In the time he takes to check that Cain got back to Eve, Abram disappears.

 

Hell gets Cain, and Abram gloats until Andrew discorporates him. The infuriating part is that Andrew regrets it almost immediately and hates himself for the relief when Abram resurfaces a few years later.

 

They go on like this, different names, different humans. Sometimes they fight each other, when orders dictate, sometimes they play with the humans when they're bored, but mostly they observe and live and let the humans damn and save themselves.

 

Andrew hates to admit it, but the humans are interesting, invigorating, infuriating. They make him feel alive and a part of them, and that traitorous part of his mind whispers that Earth is much better than Heaven ever could've been.

 

They fight and they thwart and they work at cross purposes, but when it's over, assuming they're both alive, they share a smoke. Abram claims it reminds him of hell, but Andrew somehow doubts that. It reminds him of the first humans harnessing fire and life, and if he had to guess, Abram remembers the same.

Angels and demons aren't really all that different. The same stock, when it comes down to it.

 

It takes until the year 1020 for the Arrangement to form, four or five centuries after the year that Andrew remembers in perfect, agonizing detail, the year Abram earned himself a favor that he has yet to cash in, and Andrew earned himself some new scars. It takes a lot to mark an angel.

They're somewhere in Constantinople, sharing a bottle of wine and a box of tobacco. "This is stupid, you know," Abram, who is Haemon at the moment, says, slumped against the wall. Smoke curls from their pipes, twisting up into the night sky. Andrew doesn't ask aloud, but his gaze must be enough of a question.

Haemon gestures between them lazily. "Why are we working against each other? Neither of us can get anything done when all we focus on is thwarting, thwarting, thwarting."

Blinking once in genuine surprise, Andrew points at himself and then Haemon. "Me, angel. You, demon." He says, enunciating slow and clear so that Haemon can't possibly mistake him. 

Haemon, because he exists to infuriate Andrew, scoffs.

"Yeah right, like we don't mix up our roles half the time anyway. Besides, the people giving orders would be none the wiser, we can beef up our reports, get some commendations. Our _superiors_ ," and Haemon says that word with such distaste that Andrew feels an eyebrow creep up, "don't understand what it's like on the ground. I think this is a smart move."

"That's because you are an idiotic demon," Andrew tells him.

Haemon shrugs, not offended in the least.

"But I'm _Earth's_ idiotic demon, and I plan on staying that way." 

Andrew ignores the muted fear at losing Haemon, at losing the only company he has, at losing the only being on this plane of existence that might possibly have his back. It's not trust, because Haemon is a demon and Andrew isn't that stupid, but it's something like companionship. None of this will ever find its way out into the open. Instead, Andrew gives Haemon a considering look.

"Are you calling in your favor?"

Haemon flinches back, like he always does at mention of that. 

"No, Andrew, that wasn't given on credit, I don't want repayment for-"

"Fair is fair." Andrew shrugs, reaching for the bottle of wine. The damned demon still looks determined, like Andrew is purposefully misunderstanding him.

"No, just. No. I don't want you to be forced into this anyway. This is supposed to be a voluntary deal."

Andrew tilts his head, interest piqued despite himself. A deal. The first deal he'd made had been with Ariel, and he hasn't seen his brother in several millennia. There had been deals since then, but they'd all ended in disappointment. Perhaps...

"A deal." Andrew rolls the word on his tongue, taking satisfaction in the way Haemon straightens, looking almost hopeful. Hm. "A contract?"

"Yes!" Haemon nods. "Written, if you want proof-"

"Your word will be enough. I will know where to find you if you break it."

"Yes." Haemon agrees, something fierce in his eyes, like Eve when she took the sword, something living and interesting.

As a being that wants nothing, cares for nothing beyond what is required, Andrew thinks that he would... miss this. Smoke breaks with the enemy, verbal sparring, fierce expectation. This has become as essential to him as his wings, scarred though they may be. It's an awful, horrifying realization.

"I hate you," Andrew says, because this is still a fact, unchanging through the rise and fall of civilization. Haemon- no, Abram again- shifts before his eyes, into a human paler and blonder, a poor approximation of Andrew.

"I know," Abram says, with that disgusting smirk. "See you around." With a rustle of wings, he's gone.

Andrew drains the bottle of wine and empties the box of tobacco until he's feeling less homicidal. Can't go around killing humans after all. Rather frowned upon for an angel.

 

They are in Spain for the Inquisition where they set fire to their nearly identical commendations, and in France for the Revolution where they both nearly lose their heads. They are in China, in Mexico, in England, in Egypt. They are in the trenches of WWI and the concentration camps of WWII, but the common thread of all of these is that they are together. Angel and demon, side by side, letting the humans write their own history. And if Andrew thinks sometimes of writing his own history down upon Abram's skin, of pressing lips and putting in the effort, of feeling with the one being he trusts...

It's not a bad existence, Andrew thinks, some time in the 1940's. And then Abram looks at him, through him, and tells him he needs to go away for a while. Andrew tells him to stop running, and Abram says,

"Thank you. You were amazing."

And then he's gone. 6000 years of company and suddenly Andrew is alone again. He tells himself good riddance, that it doesn't matter, but those 50 years of nothing are the longest he's lived. 50 years of quiet anger, louder apathy, and complete disinterest in doing his angelic duty. There's no point with no one to fight him.

There's no point to anything at all, until it's the early 2000's, and Andrew stumbles upon a face identical to his own.

An old deal, brought back to life 6000 years too late. 

 

I.

Neil Josten lets his cigarette burn to the filter without taking a drag. He doesn't want the nicotine, it has no affect on him after all, he wants the acrid smoke that reminds him of Eve's fierce smile, Cain's laughter, and Andrew's steady presence at his side. 

All things he can't have, and all things he misses with an ache in his chest where his heart would be. Fuck, does he miss Andrew, miss their hypothetical conversations, miss their derision of the stupid humans around them.

Neil had been something. A demon, a conspirator, a... friend. And now he's nothing, a runaway living on borrowed time, a traitor marked up in ways he can't hide. It's better this way, he tells himself. Better that when he's finally discorporated for good, he's nowhere near Andrew. Neil leans back on the bleachers, staring up at the stars he watched come into existence and wondering if Andrew ever thinks of him. 

The locker room door squeals open, and Neil doesn't have to look to know it's Coach Hernandez coming to sit by him. A good man, by most of Neil's measures, as tempted to vice as the average human, but still a loyal husband and father. He's grateful to him in a way, for letting Neil onto his team despite all his oddities and hidden past. Of course, if the man knew he was sitting next to the first demon on Earth, he would probably try to exorcise Neil or something stupid like that, and it would be so incredibly messy. Neil settles the guise of humanness over himself a little tighter and turns to look at Coach.

"I didn't see your parents at the game." Coach says. 

"They're out of town." More accurately, they never existed in the first place. Unless, that is, Hernandez wants Lucifer himself at one of their Exy games. That seems unlikely.

It's something Neil has picked up to pass the time, this bastard sport. It's a strange combination of lacrosse, aggression, and speed. He'd caught his first match on television somewhere in Vancouver, trying to keep up on the humans, and he'd been inexplicably drawn to it. Maybe it was the violence, the way that the humans tore and ripped at each other, maybe it was the fast paced chaos of it, the second-hand adrenaline rush so different from the terror dogging his steps as he ran. 

Neil loves it. Like nothing else the humans have invented since hot showers, he loves it.

So, as the years passed and his paranoia grew, Neil searched for a place he could try it and fly under the radar. A high school team in the middle of nowhere was his best bet, and so Neil slipped into Millport, made himself unnoticeable, and passed the time on the court.

The past year has been the most fun he's had since Andrew.

Andrew, Andrew, Andrew. Everything comes back to him in some way, but Neil supposes that's how things go when you've had the same company for 6000 years.

Hernandez notices his distraction, until Neil tells him he doesn't, and then the Coach keeps rambling on about petty human things that hardly concern Neil. He's just about done in Millport, now that the season is over. It's off to another small town where he can become someone new and pretend to learn all over again.

"There's someone here to see you." Coach says.

Everything in Neil grinds to a stop. It's a primal fear, something demons supposedly lack, that overtakes him. He imagines the Moriyamas discovering him, or worse, one of the Devil's henchmen, or worst of all, Lucifer himself, come to drag him screaming Down There and rend him limb from limb, essence from essence, until he's nothing but a memory, and then until he's nothing at all.

When Neil follows Hernandez's pointing finger, he finds none of these things, but a normal, human man. Neil's not sure if he's more relieved or worried, but as he tries to scan the man's mind and finds a wall of protection already in place, he leans toward worried. Worse, there's something off about the man's aura, a kernel of darkness concealed just beneath the surface. Inexplicably, it reminds Neil of Lucifer and the place that is supposed to be home. He can feel his wings, just out of the visible plane, ready to whisk him away to somewhere safer and lonelier. Exy was a stupid risk, Neil knows, but he'd just been so bored, and he'd needed something-

That something's about to get him killed, sooner rather than later.

The human gives some kind of recruitment speech, but Neil's too panicked to listen to it, too busy trying to think of a way out, a way to safety. He hears Janie Smalls, and his stomach drops even further. He knows that name, knows it means Palmetto State University and Kevin Day and Andrew Minyard. Andrew Minyard, a human whose life he tracks doggedly on the off-chance that it's his Andrew, a human that Neil has copied, picking up Exy and danger in one grab.

"You can't be here," Neil says, and he hopes he manages to keep his voice level.

"Yet here I stand," Coach David Wymack answers. "Need a pen?"

Neil bolts.

He sprints, too afraid of scarring the humans to take his wings out, duffle in hand and only one destination in mind: away.

Neil doesn't realize he's running into something worse, the muffled presence he'd felt at the back of his mind, familiar but too indistinct to recognize. A racket smacks into his stomach, but Neil isn't playing human well enough to actually feel it. What makes him stop is the sudden, overwhelming presence of Andrew.

Everything in him freezes and cracks in relief. His eyes lock onto golden ones and before Neil thinks about what he's doing, he's casting a net of frozen time over them. Until it's just Neil and Andrew.

There's something like relief in the angel's eyes, a burning rage, a terrible judgment. Neil doesn't care, doesn't care, doesn't care. Losing this was the hardest part of running, losing his best friend, his only friend, his mortal enemy-

"Andrew," Neil says, and his lips feel numb. Even this close, there's something muted about Andrew's presence, something muffling his too bright essence into an ember Neil barely recognizes. It must be something magical, some type of ward, because there's no other way Neil wouldn't sense the angel instantly. 

Andrew, for his part, looks as surprised as Neil feels, but for the manic-edged smile curling over his mouth. It's not a natural expression on Andrew's face, not something Neil recognizes or likes, and Neil wonders what Andrew managed to get himself into while he was gone.

"Abram! Or should I say Neil Josten? Has a nice ring to it. What a surprise!" Andrew exclaims. 

"Andrew, I can explain-"

"Oh, you will. Believe me, you will. But only after you make Kevin stop whining and sign with us."

"Kevin?" Neil asks, head spinning. He doesn't understand what's going, why Andrew is pretending to be human, playing Exy of all things, smiling like it's being forced out of him-

In his surprise, Neil lets time start flowing again. Wymack scolds Andrew for attacking him, and Andrew puts up with it, not once removing his eyes from Neil. He offers Neil a two fingered salute and a wink. "Better luck next time."

Neil rolls his eyes. "Fuck you." It sounds far more relieved than he means it to. And by Andrew's rising eyebrows, he hears it.

Wymack, only human despite the protection that Neil can guess the origin of now, continues on, ignorant of the underlying tension between Andrew and Neil. "If I paid to fly three people out here to see you the least you can do is give me five minutes, don't you think?"

Any of the relaxation afforded by Andrew's presence vanishes. If Neil was human, this is where the blood would drain from his face, but instead he forgets to breathe. He doesn't need air, but not breathing signifies him as something not human. It takes a long, drawn out minute before Neil can remember how lungs work. "You didn't bring him here."

"Is that a problem?"

Neil finds his eyes flashing back to Andrew as he searches for a lie that's believable. Unsurprisingly, Andrew catches his gaze, with suspicion just beginning to take form. Neil can almost feel him picking apart the situation, coming to his own conclusions. He prays they're not the right ones.

"I'm not good enough to play on the same court as a champion," Neil finally says. Andrew stares at him, smile widening just a touch.

_Lie_. Andrew chides in his head.

Deigning not to respond, Neil looks away from him and straight at Kevin Day. 

"True, but irrelevant." The striker moves out of the shadows, and Neil tenses harder than a human form should be able to.

Kevin Day, Exy extraordinaire. Neil knows there's no possible way Kevin could recognize him, but, despite being a demon older than life on earth, he's still afraid. Kevin Day, Exy extraordinaire, former member of the Edgar Allan Ravens, adopted son of the Moriyama family. The same Moriyama family directly linked to Lucifer, known as his weapons on the mortal plane, Hell's top human agents, and the people out for Neil's blood.

The last time Neil saw Kevin it was eight years ago. The Moriyamas caught up to him, forced him into his true form, and did their best to burn him from the inside out. Neil fought his way to freedom, frantic to escape before they could summon Lucifer, and Kevin and Riko witnessed a demon, known only as Nathaniel, murder five men. Kevin looks the same eight years later, dark hair, green eyes, the number two tattooed on his cheekbone. If Neil blinks, he could be back at Evermore, screaming, fighting like a wild dog.

Humans, Neil thinks faintly, never change enough for comfort.

He's stopped breathing again, and Neil forces the memories down the same way he forces his lungs to restart. Andrew stares at him, eyes in contrast to his manic smile, and it's hard not to feel like the world is crumbling down around his ears. 

Neil responds to Kevin and asks questions, he knows, but he can't focus on any of it. All he hears, on loop in his head, is a voice saying, borrowed time, borrowed time, borrowed time. Exy, a sport he had picked up to pass the years, a thing he enjoyed a little too much. Neil was careful, so careful, to mask any above-human abilities on the court. A newbie just learning to play, Neil let himself be fast, but not perfect. Not even a demon can pick up something like Exy instantly. It was a difficult enough sport that he thought he'd pulled it off well, experiencing the full scope, but not shining. Not anything to be noticed.

Wrong.

He should run. There's no other option, Neil should run and then fly his way out of here and never ever look back. Andrew catches his eye, and there's something heavy in his gaze, not hidden by the false grin.

Neil is so tired of running.

He doesn't want to give up Exy, the stupid human sport that makes him feel alive, he doesn't want to give up Andrew, the stupid angel that is somehow his best friend. Neil's had a good run of it. 6000 years on earth, an eon before that in Heaven. Maybe it's okay if this is his last identity, if he discorporates permanently as Neil Josten, a nobody human from Millport, Arizona. Maybe it would be worth it. Immortality was getting boring anyway.

"Why me?" Neil asks, flicking his gaze from Andrew back to Kevin. The human Andrew had decided to protect, the human that should have been nothing but an ant to both of them. Neil knows why Kevin scares him, but what does he have on Andrew?

He resolves to ask, and the realization that he's already decided to stay gives him pause.

"You play like you have everything to lose. That's the only kind of striker worth playing with."

Neil signs. He's been playing human for years and he might as well stick with it, live the last months of his existence the best he can by Andrew's side. 

 

Neil arrives at Upstate Regional airport on the 12th. It doesn't take much to find who's supposed to be picking him up, and Neil makes his way straight to Andrew through the crowd of humans. Something still muffles Andrew's presence, but now that Neil knows what to look for, it doesn't throw him off.

The first thing Neil notices is the lack of a manic smile and he relaxes just a touch. Andrew is blank as the day they first met in Eden, and the normality of it all sends Neil back to Mesopotamia, Gomorrah, Constantinople, London. Neil steps as close to Andrew as he dares, locking eyes with him.

"Andrew." The angel tilts his head, something almost mocking in his eyes.

"Neil." 

Andrew pivots on his heel without waiting for him, and Neil follows belatedly. None of the humans come within a foot of either of them, kept away by an unconscious suggestion. Because he's Andrew, who seems to care nothing at all for playing human and never has, he steps right off the sidewalk into the path of taxi. Neil sighs, and does what he usually does, carefully 'helping' the car stop short and avoid Andrew's 'fragile' form. The taxi driver yells some colorful curses out the window and, because he's a respectable demon, Neil waves back. A little pulse of power ensures that three of the man's tires will start slowly seeping air.

Neil speeds up a bit to walk beside Andrew who rolls his eyes at Neil's smug smirk.

"Petty," Andrew says, but Neil knows he appreciates it. Low-level chaos is kind of their thing.

They slip into the garage, and Neil is the opposite of surprised to find a sleek black car. Undoubtedly horribly expensive, not that either of them ever worry about currency. Neil still remembers when the first vehicles came out and Andrew showed up with one. There'd been an argument about the necessity of driving and the smell of those first cars, before Andrew had finally just rolled his eyes and said, "Just imagine how much trouble they'll cause, demon."

"Imagine how many lives they'll save." Neil had retorted.

Andrew locked Neil out of the car in spite.

This car reeks of Andrew's penchant for nice things. 

Andrew pops the trunk and gestures at the single duffel Neil carries with him. With only a second of reluctance, he tosses it in. That duffel is his only life line, the only thing that might keep him alive and safe. But if he can't trust Andrew, he can't trust anyone. 

He slides into the passenger seat, accepting Andrew's offer of a cigarette. They smoke in silence, like they've done for millennia, Neil breathing the scent in and Andrew occasionally blowing a tendril of smoke at his face. This is as safe as Neil has felt in fifty years.

Andrew finally puts out his cigarette and turns to Neil with a dark gleam in his eyes. Neil feels a little quiver of something that might be apprehension and quashes it.

"Fifty-eight years, Neil," Andrew says, tone and face blank, but Neil can hear the silent accusation.

"Andrew, I-"

"You owe me that explanation now, I think." Andrew starts the car, but Neil barely hears the purr. There's a panic in his chest. He can't tell Andrew the truth, he can't. He ran, he killed humans, all because of that last order- This is not Andrew's fight, not something the angel can fix with his blades and not something Neil wants him anywhere near.

"I can't," Neil says, finally. Andrew weaves the car in and out of traffic with a sharp motion of the steering wheel, going far too fast. "Andrew-"

"You can. And you will," Andrew says firmly.

"No. No, I can't." 

Leveling him with a flat look, Andrew snaps out, "Neil", with clear irritation. 

Neil glares back. "Andrew."

"What do you want with Kevin?" It's such an unexpected change of topic that Neil is caught off guard.

"Kevin?" Neil repeats, confused.

"I'm not blind, I saw your face when you realized he was there," Andrew accuses. Neil searches around for an appropriate lie.

"Nothing, he's just a human. I know he's famous, I've seen his face before. On that note, what do _you_ want with Kevin?" 

Andrew scoffs, glancing away from the road again. "Irrelevant. Stop lying."

His temper snaps. "I want answers too. Since when are you hanging around with humans, protecting them, pretending to be one of all things? And what's up with your aura, huh?" 

Andrew presses the car harder, and snaps back. "If you think I'm going to answer that when you won't stop lying, you are stupider than I thought."

Neil clenches his fist, reminding himself that he's pretending to be human himself, and that stabbing Andrew is not a good idea.

"What's up with the smiling at least? It looks painful," Neil says, cutting as he can.

Andrew bears his teeth. "Embracing my angelic duty, of course."

Neil mirrors Andrew's scoff. "Oh sure. You're a real shining example of an angel."

Andrew flicks a look at Neil, calm again. "Exactly."

Neil gives up on trying to understand him as Andrew swerves across two lanes of traffic. "For god- sat- _someone's_ sake, are you trying to get us killed?"

"Don't be so afraid of discorporation, Neil. We'd be back causing trouble in a week, max, with spiffy new bodies."

Neil wouldn't be, but Andrew doesn't need to know that. "Fucking angels," he mutters instead. Andrew raises an eyebrow.

There's a tension about the other being that Neil knows he put there. He knows he's pinging all of Andrew's suspicions, with good reason, and there's nothing he can do to fix it.

"Andrew. I'm not here to cause any trouble, trust me."

Andrew turns his head just slightly. Neil can't read his look.

"Why should I? All you've done so far is lie, demon."

Neil flinches back, hurt despite himself. The rest of the ride is silent. Just before they pull to a stop, Andrew turns to Neil, gritting his teeth. "As far as most of them know, I am human. If you want to live, you will play along. Understand?"

Neil blinks. "Most?

Andrew doesn't respond, climbing out of the car and walking toward the three humans standing on the curb. Neil follows, grabbing his duffel. 

He freezes, staring at the people before him. On one side of Kevin is Andrew, and on the other side is... Andrew again, dressed in identical all black. Neil knew that 'Andrew Minyard' had a twin on the same team, Aaron, but he'd thought it was a ruse Andrew was keeping up for appearances sake, not this.

'This' is an identical replica of Andrew's human form, but truly human. 'This' is Aaron Minyard looking at him with something like recognition. ‘This’ is the sudden realization that he knows why Andrew is pretending. Aaron Minyard isn't a human Andrew is using as a mask, far from it.

Somewhere in the past fifty years, Ariel chose to become human and Andrew had found his brother again. Judging by the disgusted look Aaron shoots him, the former angel wasn't walking around clueless either. 

Neil doesn't know what to say. Not even Kevin is enough to distract him. He flicks his eyes toward Andrew, only distinguishable from his twin by the aura nearly buried in his core. Andrew raises an eyebrow, as if to say, _took you long enough_.

The only human that Neil doesn't recognize steps up to the curb, hand extended and smiling. Neil takes a deep breath and pulls humanity around himself like a cloak.

"Hey, welcome to South Carolina. Flight go okay?" Neil takes the offered hand and steps up onto the sidewalk. Neil shrugs. He hates planes when his wings work just as well.

"It was fine." 

"I'm Nicky. Andrew and Aaron's cousin, backliner extraordinaire." Nicky is all dark where the twins are light, but Neil doubts their relationship because of more than that. He doesn't recognize Nicky as one of the fallen.

"By blood?" He asks, meeting Andrew's eyes briefly. That damn eyebrow arches again.

Nicky laughs, and says something about his father 'rescuing' his mother on a mission trip. He sends Andrew a pointed look at that, to find his face dark and closed off. Doesn't like his so-called aunt and uncle then, Neil supposes.

Andrew doesn't like very many humans at all, as a rule.

He makes that clear with a derisive remark about Aaron's dead mother which Neil files away. Aaron was born to a human then, how interesting. Neil follows the four into the building, skimming over the three humans' minds as lightly as he can, just to check. All of them are protected like Wymack was, and Neil somehow isn't surprised. Andrew has always taken care of his own.

Nicky leads him toward Wymack's apartment, and Neil swallows down his apprehension as best as he can. Neil is a demon older than life on Earth, powerful and clever enough to survive the devil himself hunting him down. A single human man, that just slightly smacks of Down There, is not going to be enough to shake him. 

Neil still hasn't figured out how he's going to cohabit with a human and keep his nature a secret. If Neil can keep up the abused teenager act... It might be enough to explain away any skittishness. 

Andrew shoots him another look, and Neil knows the angel can sense his nerves. That's going to be another problem, pretending he and Andrew are strangers. Pretending they haven't known each other for all of human history and been acquaintances, if not friends, for at least half of it. Neil doesn't know if he can still count Andrew among his friends, after leaving for fifty years with no explanation. That might hurt the most.

Wymack's apartment is small but nice enough. Cluttered, but the couch has been cleared for Neil to sleep on. Not that he plans on doing much sleeping in an unsecured place, or much sleeping at all. It's not like Neil needs it, even if he's slept regularly over the past decades, as a way to pass the time if nothing else. He doesn't trust Wymack enough to be so vulnerable, through no fault of the man's own.

Nicky says something to Aaron in German, and Neil's breath stutters before he manages to even it out. The last time he'd been in Germany had been when he'd received the order that ruined everything, still cleaning up the mess of WWII. That existence-ruining fear isn't something he likes to relive.

Through a force of will, Neil doesn't let the others know he can understand them, excepting Andrew of course, who was with him in Germany when everything ended. He wonders, idly, whether Andrew will tell his brother and 'cousin' the truth.

The demon in him hopes not. Plenty of opportunity for embarrassment the longer it goes on. 

Wymack doesn't seem pleased to find them in his apartment, and his presence has Neil stiffening. He knows the man is human, one for Up There going by his obsession with charity cases, but that little piece of darkness, of Down There, makes Neil squirm. An older than dirt demon, squirming.

The change in Andrew is immediate and interesting. That manic smile is back, that forced happiness and energy that is so uncharacteristic. He's pretending for Wymack and none of the others seem surprised. Neil mentally notes it, trying to form a picture of Andrew's situation through what he's being given.

Something or someone is coercing Andrew into this behavior. Neil is going to find out who.

Until then, he lies to Wymack about Nicky picking him up and plots.

"Why are you idiots still here?" Wymack demands, eyeing Andrew and his gaggle.

"Leaving," Andrew says, still with that awful smile. "Goodbye. Is Neil coming too?"

"Coming where?" Wymack asks, looking as nervous as Neil feels. Nicky covers with some joking comment about being good people, but it's Aaron that actually answers the question.

"We're taking him to the court. We can give him a lift to Abby's after. You didn't need him, did you?"

Wymack gives him a long look before relenting, handing Neil a set of keys. They shouldn't mean anything, a little twist of power and Neil can be through any locked door without pause. But it's new, to be given keys to someone's home, to be trusted that way. Of course, Wymack would have the keys back in an instant if he knew what Neil really was, but it's nice nonetheless. The keys to the court are even better.

It may be a meaningless hobby in the scale of the life Neil has lived, but he enjoys it. He would go as far as to say he loves it. In the past fifty years, it's the only thing that's made him feel alive, and even if he's mostly at Palmetto for Andrew, Exy is a not too insignificant bonus.

Before they leave, Neil makes an excuse to use the bathroom. It's not a perfect fix, and it won't work for long, but Neil opens a small pocket dimension to store his duffle. The items will be safe there, but maintaining it will put a strain on Neil. It'll also take far too long to retrieve the bag should he need it, but until Neil can sneak off to get a sturdy safe to ward properly, it will do. The elevator ride back down to the car is enlightening, if only because Andrew's grin disappears the second the door closes. 

 

The Foxhole Court is beautiful. Neil stares at, and tries to understand why, as a demon, a too orange stadium would take his breath away like this. Andrew stares at the back of his head, but Neil can't look away from the court. He wants to play on it, wants to run on it, wants to know what it feels like to face Andrew, to compete against him. 

Neil wants inside so badly it's almost ridiculous. If it weren't for the crew of humans around him and the fact that Neil isn't sure how much they know, he'd already be inside, under the lights. He restrains himself to a fast walk.

Nicky is talking to him, chattering away, but something he says makes Neil stop in confusion.

"What?"

Nicky rolls his eyes. "Come on, cute face like yours has to have a girlfriend. Unless you swing my way, of course, in which case please tell me now and save me the trouble of having to figure it out."

Neil stares at him, wondering how Nicky can care about such things when the stadium is right there. He wants to be inside, on the court, playing the stupid human sport that has him so ensnared. "What's it matter?"

"I'm curious!" Nicky defends.

"I don't swing either way. Can we go in?" Neil says. He looks back at the stadium, ignoring Nicky's protests. It's true, mostly. Human sexuality has always seemed pointless to Neil. He doesn't understand that interest that the humans have in each other, that desire to mate and procreate. Bodies are bodies and it's always seemed too much effort to really try and feel what the humans do. He knows it's something of an oddity, a demon who doesn't care about sex in the least, but it is what it is. 

Even Andrew has done his experimenting, he knows, preferring human males over females, but Neil is just... not interested.

Thankfully, Kevin chooses that moment to key in the code and let them into the court.

It's just as impressive and aggressively orange as Neil imagined it to be. Before he can get into exploring it, Aaron hands Andrew an innocuous pill bottle. It's one that he's seen the humans use for prescriptions, but when Andrew unscrews the top and shakes something out into his hand, it's very much not a normal pill. 

Neil stares at it, sitting in his palm. It's glamoured to look like a typical thing of medicine, but under the illusion is an actual piece of ambrosia, direct from Up There. Andrew meets Neil's eyes as he tosses it back.

It comes together instantly. Heaven's ambrosia is a thing rumored to contain all the happiness of Heaven. Humans supposed to be experiencing a Divine Moment were often slipped it directly before the event. It essentially forces happiness, makes a being closer to Heaven and all the fools Up There. Theoretically, were Neil to come in contact with it, he would burst into flames

Andrew would never take it voluntarily, Neil knows. It was a thing that Andrew had been threatened with before, lighten up or the bosses will make you, but Neil never took it seriously. He was wrong. Neil wonders what Andrew did that was so bad that it made Up There force angelic joy down his throat. It makes sense now at least, his manic grin. Andrew was not, by nature, a smiling, go-lucky angel. Neil flinches from imagining what it must feel like to have your inner voice silenced, everything inside you fighting itself.

Deep down, Neil feels the beginning stirrings of anger. Andrew is Neil's angel, his co-conspirator, his oldest companion. No one has the right to mess with him, to change him against his will. Not in Neil's book. Neil meets Andrew's golden gaze and lets him see what he wants. Whatever Andrew finds makes him scoff and look away, something unreadable in his expression. It's swept away by the manic grin.

Neil reminds himself to breathe and heads out onto the court. They spend hours scrimmaging, Neil, Aaron, and Nicky. It's great to play again, even as the game becomes more intense and Neil has to exert himself more.

Despite the unlikeliness of it, it's very hard to cheat in Exy. Neil has benefits to being a demon, of course, but near all of the skills that he could use on the court would be far too obvious. Most of it comes down to what he can force his human form into doing. His reflexes are better than a human's, and when Aaron slams him to the floor, he's able to bounce right back up. His aim is near perfect, and he can subtly adjust the trajectory of a ball midair. Neil's best weapon on the court is his speed. He sets himself strict limits within the realm of human possibility, fast, but not so fast it breaks any rules. Even with a cap, he can still run circles around Aaron and Nicky.

They're good though, better than Neil's had the opportunity to play with before. Exy in Millport was nothing like this, nowhere close. When they finally stop, Neil has the beautiful, invigorating realization that he's going to have to work at the stupid, wonderful human sport. 

Kevin snags him as they leave the court, and Neil tries not to lock up. Kevin can't hurt him, it's his connections that put Neil in danger, nothing more. That kernel of darkness, so similar to Wymack's, isn't as intimidating when held in a leaner, younger body. Still, Neil shifts under that judgmental gaze.

"You were holding yourself back in Millport," Kevin says, flat and almost angry. Neil shrugs, looking anywhere else. Dammit, he should've been more careful, pretended to be slower, worse. He'd been so distracted by the game- "This is still going to be a long season. You aren't ready to be playing college level."

Neil relaxes, nods.

"Give your game to me, let me get you there," Kevin demands. Neil thinks about it, thinks about this petty human ordering around a creature older than Earth over a sport that didn't exist a thousand years ago and likely won't be around a thousand years in the future. It's admirable, almost.

Neil nods again, sure. "Take it." 

Over Kevin's shoulder Andrew rolls his eyes, taking pulls from a bottle of whiskey and smiling, smiling, smiling.

 

The ambrosia turns Andrew against himself. He hates it, hates the way it twists him up until he feels happy, until he can taste Heaven on the back of his tongue. Andrew hates the way it curls around his essence and smothers it quiet, leaving room for nothing but cheerful, angelic obedience. It makes him no better than a human, no better than a smiling, laughing puppet, and he hates it, hates it, hates it. 

Existing through it is hard, choking down the insistent need to do good and be happy is harder. And so it leaves him like this, a strange mix of cheerful and angry and dangerous. He fights it as much as he can, fiercer than he has fought anything as his past tries to wipe away his present.

Andrew holds on, rages through the heavenly joy, and counts down the days until he's off Up There's probation.

He would still do it all over again. Even as it makes him vulnerable, unstable, angry beyond measure, Andrew would still make the same choices, destroy that woman that hurt his brother when he was a vulnerable human, keep his oath to Aaron when Nicky was in danger.

_Violence against humans is unacceptable_ , they told him and shoved ambrosia down his throat.

And so he is stuck, choking down happiness and trying to protect the fragile humans he is sworn to. Aaron because of the First Promise. Nicky because of manipulation and Kevin because of a bargain fair and square. A bargain now meaningless, though the human doesn't know it.

Neil Josten. Abram. The lost little lamb, the idiotic, too human demon-

Who is lying, lying, lying.

It's infuriating, Andrew rages against it, but it is quieted, suffocated by the burning ambrosia and Up There's heavy gaze.

He cannot break the deal with the higher ups, he cannot let them remove him and leave Aaron defenseless. Andrew cannot break an oath once he's taken it, and he can't be whisked away before he has figured out what Neil- the demon is up to.

Andrew does what's safest for both of them. 

He ignores stupid Neil, and his stupid, disguised appearance, and his stupid pleading eyes. He lets Kevin play with him when supervised, but tries to keep his flock away, tries to shelter them from a serpent that might bite. The one being in creation that Andrew might have trusted is weaving a web of lies so tight that even Andrew is having trouble breaching the surface. But, he smiles.

Everything is crystal clear but muted, and Andrew hates it.

It all comes back to the stupid sport somehow. The one that drives Kevin and the petty humans that make up the rest of the Foxes, the one that Andrew can't make himself care for, because in the scheme of things, it is nothing, it is less than nothing, and he can hardly feel anything through the haze of the ambrosia. 

He cares for it solely because he lets himself stop taking the ambrosia for a few hours, lets himself feel nothing and be nothing and taste nothing except the sour tang of human sweat and polluted air. But here, with the sun too hot and the sticks too meaningless, Andrew couldn't give a damn.

Smack. Smack. Smack. He stands in front of the goal, drifting and letting the balls slip by him, one after the other. Neil, eyes somehow burning blue despite the contacts, fires a shot. Andrew moves, faster than a human reasonably could, and smacks the ball all the way up court.

Neil scowls, Andrew grins because it's all he knows how to do. It serves the demon right.

 

Outside of practices, Andrew ignores Neil because he is a threat. He ignores the gentle poke at his mind that sends him an image of a cigarette, he ignores the suggestion of a short little fly around, he ignores an open roof top door, and he ignores, ignores, ignores, until some of the light slips out of Neil's eyes. Good. Andrew is not his answer. Neil did fine for 60 years without him, and he will survive 60 more.

Andrew doesn't know if he will, as Aaron grows older and more human and Andrew grows not at all. 

 

Neil does something to piss Kevin off, inevitably. The human is fuming, glaring, and he orders Neil to fire on Andrew until he scores. Despite himself, Andrew feels a little twist of interest, deep in his essence where the ambrosia can't touch.

"Uh oh," Andrew says, forced laughter twisting his words. "This won't end well."

Neil looks at him with something like hurt in his stupid eyes, and smiles back. He shoots, and Andrew smashes it down the court. It's reminiscent of that first thousand years or so, when they fought each other on orders, tried their best to incapacitate and discorporate. It's a stupid court, but it's also Mesopotamia, swords flying and clashing. Andrew won that time, and he'll win this time.

He cheats without being obvious, jumping and putting a little too much force behind his returns. It's really all he can do when the ambrosia keeps him contained, but it's enough. Neil, honorable demon that he is, plays fair for the first half hour. Then, when Andrew can nearly taste his frustration, he starts to cheat. 

The ball twists impossibly on its path, Neil moves far too fast, throws far too hard, and is far too _good_. It's something he'd never do on the real court, Andrew knows, would insist it took all the fun out of things, in that stupid honest way he has. An honorable, honest demon. What a disgrace. Andrew thinks, sometimes, when his thoughts are clear enough, that they are in the wrong roles.

But here it is just Andrew and Neil, Neil and Andrew, like it has been for most of eternity and will be until civilization burns itself to dust. Here Neil lets loose, and, regretting that he ever took up this stupid sport, Andrew follows him. The shots he saves are impossible, improbable. He cheats back as much as he can, and they are performing like no human possibly could for so long. It pokes a hole into Andrew's cover, but at least sitting out there, Nicky is the only one ignorant. Nicky is the only one who thinks him truly human. 

An hour passes, and Andrew forgets to worry about even that. He doesn't care about Exy, not really. It's a stupid human sport that he discovered the same year it came into existence, as he flitted place to place, bored and not mourning Neil's disappearance. Andrew played goal, because protection came natural to him. He learned in the streets of Japan, and then dropped it eventually, when other things caught his eye. But this is not about Exy, not really. It's about the fierce look on Neil's face, that determination that has leveled cities. The flushed cheeks that Neil must create on autopilot, that brilliant, focused expression, that makes something in Andrew twist, even through the ambrosia-

Neil doesn't swing, and Andrew knows this. But Andrew put in the effort so speak, and Neil has always captivated him. It doesn't matter, 6000 years haven't been enough to crack the demon's shell of obliviousness, but. But.

Andrew plays against Neil and it is a dance they have always known. They play and they don't tire because their bodies aren't built for that, until Kevin starts banging on the court door.

They both stop, and Andrew hates the force of will it takes to drag his eyes from Neil. Kevin opens the door and leans in, apparently ignorant of the sizzling tension between two beings older than his comprehension. Oh, Kevin. So single-minded.

As Kevin frowns at Andrew, he speaks to Neil. "That's enough. You're lucky you didn't blow out your arms. Don't be an idiot."

Neil's expression shutters almost faster than Andrew can cough out a laugh.

"Oh, Kevin. Kevin, Kevin. You are no fun. We were just getting started!" Andrew bumps Kevin's shoulder on his way out of the court and ignores the eyes burning into his back.

 

And then, there's that duffle. Andrew remembers the desperate way Neil had held it, the way he'd acted like it was a lifeline. He remembers the hesitation in throwing it into Andrew's care, he remembers the way it suddenly disappeared upon arriving at Wymack's, and he remembers the strained look around Neil's eyes and that constantly leaking aura of power. A pocket dimension, if Andrew had to guess. Neil definitely couldn't hold it up much longer, not without expending a far too explosive amount of energy for a demon obviously on the run.

And so Andrew waits, knowing he has to hit it just right to get his answers. 

The dorms open, Neil leaves, and Andrew slips in.

The bottom drawer is warded heavily, Neil's style, but it's clearly a rushed job. Must want to get back before Boyd comes home. Andrew looks at the warding, taps the corner of his smile, and considers.

Instead of making a mess of things with a pulse of power, Andrew slips out a blessed dagger from one of his sheaths. Not his most formidable weapon of course, but it was a gift, and having a weapon on this dimension is always helpful.

Andrew studies the warding one last time, before making two small slices on supposedly empty air and letting the whole thing fall apart. Out comes the duffle bag, and Andrew whistles through his teeth, almost impressed, even as the rest of him snaps to attention.

It's an armory fit for a hunter, fit for someone out to vanquish a legion of demons, of angels, of humans. Andrew commits its organization to memory, before poking through it with the tip of his dagger. No less than seven demon blades, upwards of 15 banishing sigils, a small pistol with at least fifty silver bullets, two blessed blades, and an entire of flask of _holy water_ , double sealed to prevent any accidental drippings. Andrew doesn't even know how Neil would use the last two without bursting into flames himself.

At the very bottom, disguised as a grimoire, a binder filled with the movements of the Moriyamas over the past 60 years, with far too much focus on Riko and Kevin for Andrew's taste.

The twisting in his stomach feels a lot like betrayal, and Andrew hates it. Hates that he hates it, hates that he wants so badly to trust Neil, to trust a demon. He repacks the bag, and fixes the wards so that everything is exactly as it was. 

Neil is a threat.

When he bursts in an hour later, so angry that Andrew can almost taste the sulfur, he lets him lash out at Kevin and simply watches him. The smile helps, in this case. Andrew notices that Neil won't look at him, even as he flips between languages.

He steps in only when he has to and lets Neil stew in what he knows.

It's time that Andrew steps up, that he lays Neil bare and carves out the lies that the demon is wearing like truth. It's gone on long enough. Now that Neil could clearly incapacitate him, discorporate him, leave Andrew too weak to fulfill his promises-

He corners him in the car, grin wide and bright so that Neil knows he means it. It tastes like ash on his tongue, and not the good kind. "Did you forget, Neil? You can't put a leash on me. Don't think you ever could, okay? It's not safe. You'll make me want to break you." There's a threat there, one that Neil clearly hears and ignores.

"You can't." It's that stupid open defiance, that big mouth destined to get him killed. Deep down, that unwavering trust that Andrew has his back. Andrew hates it. He's missed it. He hates that he's missed it. The ambrosia drives his grin larger.

"That sounds like a challenge. Mother may I?" Andrew drawls.

Neil rolls his eyes, not deterred in the slightest. "You don't have a mother."

Some small part of Andrew appreciates his gall, like always, but the rest of him just wants to hold Neil in place and scrape out honesty. He laughs.

He leans forwards and flicks Neil on the forehead, hard enough to maybe get something through that thick skull. "Consider this your official invite, you suicidal wretch. I'm bringing you to Columbia with us this Friday." 

Neil frowns in confusion. Andrew obviously didn't hit him hard enough. Nicky explains, in that ignorant, human way of his, and Andrew takes note of the way that Aaron presses himself against the car door so as not to touch Neil. Ah yes, Aaron, speciesist as always. Afraid to be tainted by the demon sitting next to him, afraid to be tainted by his angelic twin, far too attached to petty humans that do nothing but hurt. Andrew wonders whether he's doing it consciously or not, whether some hidden part of him remains angelic enough to warn him off the darkness sitting next to him.

So many interesting, infuriating problems in Andrew's life. At least he's not bored.

 

The rest of the humans that make up the Foxes come back that day, and Andrew watches with a choked off amusement as they dance around Neil. Wilds and Boyd seem keen on adopting him into their little group, and Neil is clearly confused by the humans' attention. Nothing has changed there then, the demon remains just as socially inept as before.

Reynolds leans all over him, clearly looking to piss off Gordon, but predictably Neil is oblivious. Andrew reminds himself not to be possessive, that Neil is an uninterested demon, but a quiet part of him still crows.

Then, of course, the Ravens are coming south. Neil goes a painful shade of white and Kevin stiffens in a way that is not surprise. These stupid humans and their stupid game.

Renee chases after Neil when he leaves, and there's something contemplative in her eyes when she reappears. Andrew knows he'll have to get to her sooner rather than later, before she takes things into her own hands. She won't have to spend much time around Neil to realize something is off, and an exorcism would just be so messy.

They meet for breakfast the next day.

"Andrew." Renee says, with a small smile. She makes no move to touch him, to hug him incessantly like Nicky or clap him on the shoulder like Boyd. Andrew is grateful, and smiles big as can be to show it.

"Renee, Renee, Renee. Work any miracles over the break?" Andrew leans in slightly, stage whispers, "Catch any monsters, hunter?"

Renee's smile doesn't shift, and the cross on her neck glints. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Andrew sits back in his chair, and sobers himself as much as he can. His smile doesn't shift, but his eyes, at least, are sharp. Renee is careful not to cut herself. "Not here, yeah? Eat up, Joan of Exy, we'll talk after."

Andrew shovels down as much ice cream as the diner is willing to serve with a waffle, and waits, leg bouncing, for Renee to finish. They walk back to the tower, Renee talking about her break and traveling with Stephanie, Andrew bobbing his head along and making snide comments. 

It isn't until they reach the basement of Fox Tower, a makeshift gym with a room covered in mats for sparring, that Andrew relaxes a bit. Renee locks the door behind them, and Andrew removes his blessed daggers, dropping them on the floor.

Renee starts to circle him, light on her feet, and all traces of her sweet smile wiped away. She lunges, fast, faster than a normal human has any right to be. Andrew dances out of the way, returns and is blocked. "What is Neil?" She asks.

"Neil's an old friend," Andrew laughs. "A very old friend, the oldest."

Renee's brow furrows at the implication, but it doesn't slow her down. She sweeps Andrew's legs out from under him, and he bounces back up, throwing her over his shoulder. She hits the ground with thud that would keep a normal human down, but only causes her to stretch out her muscles and give a little shake. They collide again, and again. Immovable object against an unstoppable force.

"I didn't think... you had other friends." Renee says finally, panting and slowing. She is not quite human, but far closer than Andrew ever will be, and therefore fragile. She sinks to the mats, cross-legged, and with a laugh Andrew follows her. 

"Oh no, just Neil, always just Neil." The ambrosia turns it into something hilarious, and Andrew finds himself smiling too wide. Everything has always been just Neil.

"Is he another angel then?" And he can almost see Renee's calm excitement at another mind to pick, at someone else to teach her about the darkest parts of the world around them.

Andrew laughs at her face, but she waits patiently. "Oh no, no no. Something much worse." Replaying his motion at breakfast, Andrew leans in to stage whisper. "Little old Neil is the serpent that started it all. Shh, don't tell!" 

Renee's eyes widen, and she straightens out of her slouch. Despite the fact that they've been going at it for an hour, she is suddenly deadly focused, and Andrew can almost taste the aura of power around her. Because she is entertaining and someone Andrew considers a friend, her voice is still level and calm when she speaks.

"Andrew. What is the Serpent of Eden doing on the Foxes?"

"Playing Exy with the Guardian of the Eastern Gate, what else?" Some of the pent up power Renee had gathered dissipates, as she comes to some incorrect conclusion.

In a too calm voice, she asks, "Is he here to hurt any of mine?" Andrew considers, thinks of Neil's refusal to hurt a human even on orders from Lucifer himself. Thinks of Neil swinging Cain around, of tanned hands reviving a fallen dove, of a demon shielding humans with his body, arguing hotly that he's just giving them the chance to make more trouble, that it's not out of the goodness of his heart, he's a demon. A martyr. So strange for a demon.

"No, not Neil. He's harmless, as much as a demon can be harmless." Andrew smiles again, all sharp teeth that Renee doesn't flinch from.

"Are you going to let him stay?"

"We will see, witch. Don't touch him in the meantime, he's mine."

Renee nods, doesn't protest.

 

Friday can't come soon enough. Andrew continues avoiding Neil where he can, observing his interactions with the rest of the team, watching his sneaky attacks on Seth that only Andrew notices. A trip here, a spill there. Bad service, construction at every turn, cancelled classes without warning- small little things that Andrew should probably protest, but that he enjoys far too much. This is what they do, this is what Andrew and Neil are about, but it feels tainted when there's no shared cigarette at the end of the day, only suspicion and ambrosia fueled laughter.

Friday can't come soon enough. Andrew hands the container of ambrosia to Kevin and waits for the sigils carved under his armbands to burn in warning. He has about an hour before they start to eat away at his essence in punishment.

Neil shows up, dressed in all black suitable for both a demon and a person heading to Eden's. Andrew can't wait to see Neil's face when he sees the name of the club. Andrew dozes the best he can on the way to Columbia, ignoring the agony in his forearm and the pulling on his essence. Neil wakes him with a soft brush of presence, nothing like the harsh awakenings the humans are so fond of. He points Nicky to the exit, and does his best to hide the trembling of his hands from Neil, who won't stop staring at him. Andrew throws up in the bushes outside of Sweetie's, hating the way he finally feels free and normal again, only to be destroyed from the inside out. 

When he straightens, Neil is watching him with something like panic in his eyes. He's not looking at Andrew, but looking inside him, at what Andrew is sure resembles termites eating away at the foundations of a house. Neil goes to reach out, but aborts the motion, and Andrew heads inside before he can try again.

It takes forever for the cracker dust to come out, and in the meantime, everything is fire. Dimly, Andrew thinks he must have mistimed the last dose, or else Nicky got stuck in traffic. Kevin takes a long look at his carefully blank face, and pulls out the container of ambrosia. "Just take it." 

Andrew can all but feel the ambrosia, the pure piece of Up There. He hates it, and for a second he sees nothing but white hot rage. "Fuck off." He tries to keep his calm, and focus on anything but the sigils ripping him to shreds. Neil is staring at him, and Andrew can feel him pulling some of the pain, smoothing it away. Swallowing tightly, Andrew hates himself for letting him.

"Andrew. I don't understand." Neil says slowly. Nicky looks at him funny.

"Withdrawal." Nicky says, far too lightly. "Knocks the joy right out of him."

Neil doesn't give any sign of having heard, and continues staring Andrew down. Beings of their stock don't feel withdrawal, don't get drunk, or high, or anything else unless they want to, unless it's something specifically engineered. In between trying to stay upright, Andrew can almost hear the gears in Neil's head churning.

The dust appears, and Andrew throws four packets down, enough to send his body's nervous systems into overdrive. Almost immediately, the burn of the sigils disappears, and he can breathe again. It's easy enough to send out a kernel of power to turn away any eyes that may have been watching. There's a dawning understanding in Neil's eyes, and he hates it with the same ferocity that he hates the demon. 

The ride to Eden's is quick and silent, the ambrosia no longer making Andrew a walking, talking puppet. As they climb out of the car, Andrew makes sure to watch Neil as he takes in the name of the club. Something complicated flashes across his face, and he looks to Andrew, eyes heavy and dark.

Andrew brushes by him, close as he can get without touching, without his skin crawling. "And we come full circle."

Andrew hooks a finger in Neil's collar, dragging him to get drinks. He's still careful not to touch skin, but Neil follows him without hesitation. They wait at the bar until Roland catches sight of them, and the human smiles easily at Andrew.

"Back so soon? Who's your newest victim?" Andrew raises an eyebrow, and Roland flushes. Humans are too easy.

"A nobody. It's the usual for us." 

Roland nods, and glances at Neil expectantly. The demon looks uncomfortable under the scrutiny. He turns to Andrew. "I don't care. Choose for me."

Control, so easily handed over. Andrew can't believe how much Neil trusts him. It's almost enough to make him feel guilty for what he has planned, if Andrew was in the habit of feeling guilty.

Neil tosses back drinks with the rest of them complacently, but then, Andrew knows it would take a fairly ridiculous amount of alcohol to get one of them drunk if they didn't want to be. With the humans well on their way to hammered, Andrew goes up to grab the next round, slipping a vial out of his pocket. One, two, three drops and Neil will be harmless and pliable the rest of the night. He's careful not to get any in the other drinks. Even a half drop would kill a human, and battling Death for his group's souls is not on the agenda tonight.

He places the shot down in front of Neil, and they toss them back on three. The very second Neil gets a taste of his shot, he knows, but it's too late. Andrew puts a hand over his mouth and forces him to swallow. "Go dance." He tells the others, and they scatter. Neil fights hard, but there's something ragged about his movements, and a mostly sober Andrew smothers them easily. "Shh, Neil, shh."

Andrew looks him in the eyes to gauge his state and comes to the disturbing realization that he may have miscalculated.

Neil's eyes are flickering between brown and a bright, cold blue, and he's shaking with suppressed power. Andrew catches a flicker in the corner of his vision that might be a wing, and feels Neil start to hyperventilate, human body trembling to pieces and beginning to glow. Belatedly, Andrew uncovers Neil's mouth.

"Andrew- Andrew, get me out of here. You need to- I can't-"

Cursing, Andrew wraps an arm around Neil, forcibly turning eyes away from them. He blinks, and they are a mile away in an empty warehouse. He drops Neil like a hot coal, and the demon crumbles to the ground. He explodes outwards and inwards, a burst of power so strong it actually sends Andrew back a step, impressed despite himself.

Neil flares into a being of flaming hair, icy eyes, and brilliant, shining wings. The image falls to pieces gradually, the red blurring back to black, blue sliding into brown, and the wings slumping to the floor as Neil collapses. Andrew watches him heave in air like a drowning man, and feels something that is not at all concern when the heavy breathing doesn't stop as the minutes tick by.

Despite himself, he walks closer to Neil, kicks the demon lightly in the side. "Hey. Stop that."

Neil doesn't stop, in fact he curls tighter, shaking and glowing. "Don't- please, don't. Please." Andrew freezes, and he can almost feel fingers plucking out his feathers. It takes a second for the present to drip back in, for him to catch his breath. Neil knows better to use the word please around him, has known better for over a millennium.

Andrew squats and grabs the idiot by his nape. "Abram. Enough." 

Neil startles so hard that Andrew nearly lets go. His eyes are open, staring at Andrew with poorly concealed fear. "No, you can't be here, you're safe, you're-" Neil blinks and looks around them for the first time. "Wait, where are we?"

Andrew sits back on his heels and lets go of Neil, who doesn't move to put any space between them. "About a mile from Eden's."

"Eden's?" Neil stops. "What happened?"

Andrew shifts, and refuses to feel guilty. "I drugged you. You reacted poorly."

Neil stares at him with a gaze so empty and blank Andrew thinks he must be looking in a mirror. It's not an expression he's seen Neil wear very often. It is tired, dark, and hurting. Andrew doesn't like it very much. "Oh."

Andrew shifts again, before finally just pulling a chair out of the ether to sit on. When Neil makes no move to get up, he summons another and stares pointedly until the demon staggers upright. "Give me something real or I won't let you stay here."

Neil flinches. "Andrew-"

"Now is not the time, Neil." Andrew says, very patiently. He does not stare at Neil's mouth as the demon licks his lips. "The truth."

"I can't," Neil whispers.

"You will." 

"I'm trying to protect you. They'd kill you in a heartbeat," Neil says, like its wrenched out of him. Andrew tosses that around until something clicks.

"The Moriyamas," Neil flinches hard enough that he doesn't need to give a verbal answer. Everything seems to come back to that family. It makes sense at least, the Moriyamas have dealings with hell, and Neil is a fairly useless demon. "What do you want with Kevin?"

Neil slumps, like all the fight has gone out of him. "Nothing. I meant that. I- ran into him when he was younger, and I was afraid he'd recognize me." There's definitely something more there, but Andrew can tell it's the truth. He'll push another day.

"Why now?"

Neil shakes his head, some of that stubborn fire slipping back into his eyes. "No. I can't tell you that, it's not safe."

Andrew tenses, and levels Neil with a flat stare. "I don't need your protection."

"No." Neil says back, chin jutting out.

Andrew leans back in his seat, unimpressed. "Then why should I let you stay?"

Neil stares at his hands for a long minute. He's picking at his fingernails, like a human does, before he comes to a decision. He stands. "I won't tell you the why. But I can give you the past sixty years." In one smooth motion, Neil pulls off his shirt.

All of Andrew's thought processes grind to a halt. He sees toned skin, lean muscle, and a defined chest before his attention shifts. Everything freezes again, but for a different reason. Nearly every patch of Neil's human skin is covered in scars.

Angels, fallen angels included, don't scar easily. Most injuries are brushed off in the first place, and any that aren't can be erased shortly after. It takes a blessed or cursed blade to actually leave a mark, a concentrated torture that is all the worse for its subjects. The knives don't just drag across human skin, they drag across essence and leave their trails on existence itself.

Neil is covered in marks. A brand over one shoulder, pale and clearly old, but large. There's something that looks like a bullet wound lower down, and potential acid splatter. The worst of it is the knives. They're marks of varying age and Neil's front is absolutely covered in them. Some are more like battle wounds, marks received in a fair fight. Others are intricate, brutal designs, clearly deliberate, and clearly torture. Andrew can feel his scarred and broken wings twitch in sympathy. 

Andrew doesn't realize he's clenching his fists, vibrating with rage, until he tries to speak and a can't force his throat to work around his anger. It's not okay, it's the farthest possible thing from okay. They are Andrew and Neil, Neil and Andrew. They are companions, enemies, constants. Neil is Andrew's demon, his alone, not a toy to be played with and broken. They are- were- are friends, Neil has been the focus of Andrew's life for 6000 years, and someone tried to take him away.

Andrew will kill them. He'll kill them all, human or not. Let him fall, let Up There burn his name from the list of angels. A millennium ago, Andrew was pushed to his breaking point and then further, pushed nearly from existence, and Neil had pulled him back. Where was Andrew when Neil needed the favor repaid?

"Wings," Andrew says, and he almost doesn't recognize his voice. "Let me see your wings."

Neil watches him with dark, expectant eyes and shakes his wings out. Andrew takes a step closer, keeping careful distance between their bodies, and checks them over. Something loosens in his chest when he sees that they aren't too badly mangled, nothing like Andrew's own. 

"I'm so tired of being nothing. I don't want to give us up," Neil near whispers. Andrew jerks his eyes up to his face.

"We are not an us," Andrew says, flat. Something is coming alive in his essence, and he ruthlessly quashes it.

Neil laughs, shaking his head. "We've been an us since Eden." Andrew hates him, but he doesn't deny it.

"Make a deal with me," Andrew says; it's not impulsive, not really, but it feels it. Andrew knew where this was going the second Neil pulled off his shirt to show off his scars.

"What?" Neil stops breathing.

"Make a deal with me. You gave your _game_ to Kevin, give your back to me. I will stand between you and the Moriyamas, and you can finally cash in on your favor," Andrew says, slowly, so the demon can't possibly be confused.

"You don't owe me a favor," Neil shoots back immediately.

Andrew hisses through his teeth, but keeps his expression blank. So irritating. "Then think of something else you can give me."

Neil tilts his head, and thinks about it. "I'll stop Kevin from trying to run back to the Ravens. I can help you keep them all safe."

Andrew doesn't hesitate. He nods and stands. Neil tucks his wings away and pulls his shirt back over his head.

Andrew lights two cigarettes and passes one to Neil. In silent agreement, they find their way outside and lean against the side of the warehouse. They are far too close, like usual, and Andrew can feel Neil's manufactured body heat even in the summer air. It doesn't mean anything. It's nothing.

Angels aren't supposed to be liars and yet-

 

Things level out after Eden's. Andrew stops watching him with thinly veiled suspicion, the target on Neil's back gets a little smaller, and the next time that Neil tilts his head toward the roof, teasing the idea of a cigarette across the edges of Andrew's mind, he follows.

The roof becomes their place, like so many other places before it. The acrid smell of smoke as much a home to Neil as any house has ever been. They don't talk for the most part, Andrew usually biting down on an unnatural smile, and Neil content with just companionship.

There's not a whole lot they can say to each other, in any case. They have had 6000 years to talk about everything under the sun. Neil isn't bored by any means, but forcing Andrew to talk when he doesn't seem to have much control seems... unfair.

A quiet cigarette is enough.

 

 

Now that Neil is spending a significantly smaller part of his day worrying about Andrew, he has more time for Exy and the rest of the humans on the team. 

Exy is invigorating as usual. Now that Kevin has started dragging him out to night practices, sometimes it's all Neil can think about, feel. The humans are more complicated.

Dan and Matt seem intent to hover over him, take him under their wing. Neil doesn't mind it, per se. They don't seem to want anything, and Matt especially acts like he wants to be Neil's friend. Neil doesn't quite know how to have friends, discounting Andrew. He hardly thinks that the same methods of mutual murder and a few millennia to wear Matt down will work twice. So Neil tries to remember how to be human, how to be softer and more open, and how to smile naturally and not like it's ripping open his face.

He's not sure how much he succeeds, but Matt doesn't stop hovering or laughing, so Neil will count it as a win.

Seth is hard. Something about Seth rubs Neil the wrong way, the sharp words he deals out to everyone around him, the way he treats Neil like he scraped him off the bottom of his shoe. Seth is a petty human, a speck in Neil's existence, but he still pisses him off, so Neil retaliates. It's subtle, nothing damaging, but just enough for Neil to restrain his temper when Seth calls him useless or Andrew a psycho. Neil plans so carefully the little irritants that plague Seth, and hides his genuine smile behind a hand when the man storms in ranting about construction and puddles and incorrect coffee orders. It's petty but satisfying, and he knows Andrew sees him doing it, but the angel doesn't try to stop him.

Allison is a different kind of confusion. She borders between sharp and too sharp, between someone that Neil appreciates on an intrinsic level, telling the world to fuck off as she does what she wants, and a strange creature that leans all over him like she's supposed to affect him. He watches her dance around Seth like it's meant to be and then rip out his throat with her sharp, blood-red nails. Neil is a little afraid and a little awed. He somehow doesn't remember humans being like this the last time he played this game.

Renee scares him, because he recognizes the power she holds. She smiles, like she is a god-given gift, but there's a bit of fire and darkness in her. Not like Down There, but not quite Up There either. She is human, but powerful and undeniably dangerous. When Neil pretends he isn't looking, she watches him, far too knowing. Neil is prey and she is a predator, and it remains to be seen if she'll rip him apart. Deep down, Neil knows he could survive, but Andrew seems attached to this one and he'd rather not piss the angel off by damaging her.

Kevin is a driven, annoying asshole, but he's undeniably talented. Even when Neil wants to hang him from the bleachers by his intestines, he doesn't, aware of Kevin's deal with Andrew. He doesn't quite know what Andrew gets out of it yet, but he's not willing to mess up the carefully created balance of the past weeks. 

Nicky remains bubbly and confusing, utterly ignorant of everything spinning along around him, and Aaron continues avoiding him. Which is perfectly fine with Neil.

 

Neil Josten meets Betsy Dobson late in the summer.

Neil doesn't care much about the meeting. He knows that Andrew sees her weekly, but she's just part of the act of pretending he's taking court prescribed meds. A human psychologist doesn't scare him much, because at the root, she's still a human. Neil has spent 6000 years subtly manipulating them: there's nothing she can say that will throw him off. He'll toss her a few lines that hint at him being an abused teen, and that will be that. If she talks with Wymack, it won't raise any flags.

Things become a bit more problematic when Renee is his assigned partner. Neil has been successfully avoiding her all summer, and the car ride to the office is silent and uncomfortable. Something tells him that the car ride back won't be as peaceful.

Renee goes first, disappearing down a short hallway and out of sight while Neil fidgets on a couch. He starts picking at his nails and stops himself. He's not a human, and he doesn't need stupid coping mechanisms. He's the serpent of Eden, for someone's sake!

His resolve lasts until Renee reappears, looking perfectly calm and at ease. She smiles sweetly at Neil, and he can't find the lie in it. "Last door on the left, she's waiting for you."

Reluctantly, Neil stands, rehearsing his plan to himself. Keep up the act for thirty minutes and he'll be fine. 

It goes out the window the second he crosses the doorway and the room seals behind him. 

Neil whips around, panic already closing his throat. The wards sealing the door radiate enough angelic power that he might not even be able to touch them, never mind break them. He wishes desperately for a weapon and understands now why Andrew carries those daggers on him.

"Neil, please take a seat. There's no need for any of that."

Betsy Dobson smiles at him from her spot on the couch, essence radiating out of her. Barachiel, the archangel of guardians, blessings, and lightning. In some small part of Neil's mind, he marvels at the fact that so many immortals are in one spot. The rest of him panics, looks for an exit, and resigns himself to being smote beyond any possibility of being remade.

Fuck. Just after he got to have Andrew again, got to find a group of humans somewhat tolerable, got to play a stupid human sport and smoke stupid human cigarettes-

"Neil. I'm not going to hurt you. Please sit." Mechanically, he finds his way across the room, curling his essence as tightly inside himself as he dares, afraid to be burned. Maybe she doesn't recognize him. Maybe he can pretend- "I'm sorry about the wards, I didn't mean to trap you. It's important that we talk, however, and no one can know that I'm here."

There goes that plan.

Neil forces himself to look at her, at the form she's chosen to inhabit. A curvy woman with laugh lines and light brown hair, the opposite of threatening. There's no way Neil is making it out of this alive. It pisses him off.

"So I take it you aren't just part of Andrew's cover after all," Neil says, and his words come out icier than he means them to. 

"No, not quite. I'm part of his bargain to stay here, on earth." Betsy's gaze sharpens, and it's like she's looking through him, trying to read his thoughts. Neil sees red.

"Great. So I can finally tell you assholes what complete idiots you are." Betsy's eyes widen just slightly over her glasses, but Neil is angry, so angry. If he's going to die, he might as well die speaking his mind. "You take an angel, who was just doing what he had to for family, for loyalty, which last I checked Heaven was pretty big on, and you punish him? The angel of earth, who has spent 6000 years looking after the humans and dealing with everything you assholes put him through. The angel of earth, who never had any backup, who had to be rescued by a demon when things got rough. The angel of earth who saved your asses. You stuff him on ambrosia, and what? Put an ankle monitor on him. Send an archangel to keep an eye on him like he's a fledgling. You take away who he is because he doesn't fit your perfect ideal of an angel.

"All because Heaven is too shitty of a place to actually keep its minions happy. Andrew was protecting his brother, a fallen angel, a fragile human, and you're punishing him for that? Are you that stupid or are your heads so far up your asses that you honestly don't know better?" Neil laughs, bitter and terrified. "Humans think Hell's bad, but I'd love for them to get a real look at Heaven."

The silence rings and Neil closes his eyes. He can feel the weight of Betsy's consideration and the swelling of her power. He'd rather not look his death in the face, would rather visualize Andrew with smoke curling out of his mouth, a sunrise over the water, humans living, laughing, loving, and the smack of an Exy ball across the court. He's said his piece, it's fine. It's all fine.

"He took a human's life." Neil can't read Betsy's voice, but he doesn't open his eyes. He just laughs again, and it's shakier. He won't beg for his life, he won't.

"One life against Heaven's many. What about Sodom, Gomorrah, the Plagues, the Crusades. You can't claim Heaven's hands are bloodless, so why do his have to be?"

Betsy lets out an explosive sigh, and Neil finally opens his eyes. She doesn't look ready to blast him from existence, if anything she looks tired. It's a facade, Neil knows it has to be, because angels don't get tired anymore than demons do.

"I happen to agree with you, in fact."

Neil opens his mouth, another retort ready and... stops. "What?"

Betsy makes a frustrated sound and frowns, so out of place with her sunny and organized office. "I voted against forcing ambrosia on him. I tried to make the others see reason, but the decision was out of my hands. I don't think it's right, or fair, and that's part of the reason I'm here."

Neil stares at her, uncomprehending.

"I make sure everything goes smoothly, and try to," Betsy grimaces, "re-indoctrinate him I suppose. A year from now, I get to take him off the ambrosia. Until then, I supervise."

"Oh." Neil searches for an appropriate response. "Why?"

Betsy smiles, cheerful again, and the change is enough to give Neil whiplash. "I knew Andrew, Before. I'd always been jealous that he was given the Earth post. Humans are interesting."

Neil stares at her, trying to remember if he ever heard Andrew mention her. He'd never liked talking about Up There. "Are you going to report me, then?"

Betsy smiles and shakes her head. "No, no. I've kept an eye on Andrew over the years, and you've been a good friend. I think he'll benefit from your presence. He's missed you. He might not say it, but he has."

Neil watches her like she might sprout a second head. It seems to satisfy her, for some bizarre reason, and she checks the clock. "Well, I think that's all for today. Let me walk you out." Betsy waves a hand and unseals the room. Neil tries not to run out, but it takes everything he has. "It was nice meeting you. I'm sure we'll see each other again soon." Betsy gives him a firm handshake, and Neil stops his flinch through sheer force of will.

Renee watches him, gaze too perceptive for Neil's tastes. "That wasn't so bad, was it? Andrew was convinced it would be a disaster. He put money on you hating Betsy."

Neil snorts. For some reason, Andrew had decided not to warn Neil, and he'd be giving him hell about it later. "I hope you didn't lose much." He's not going to elaborate, and they reach the car and buckle in. Renee doesn't turn the radio on, and Neil takes it for the invitation it is. It's better they do this now than later.

"You know what he is." Renee watches him out of the corner of her eye and nods, her sweet smile long gone. "You know what I am?" She nods again, but there's no added tension to her frame, and it confuses him. "You're a hunter."

"And a witch," she says, unfazed. Neil leans back in his seat, staring at her, the pressed properness, the cross necklace, the aura of power, the loose frame of a fighter.

"You're not going to hunt me." It's a question, even if Neil doesn't frame it as one. 

"No. Andrew asked me not to, he says you're a friend and harmless." She glances away from the road for a second to meet his eyes. There's a raw honesty there, and something calculating Neil recognizes from the few times he's looked in a mirror. It's a look natural to Andrew's face as well. "I don't know about the harmless, but I agree on the friend part. I trust Andrew when he says you won't hurt us." 

It stuns Neil a bit, this trust, this easy acceptance of a demon. He's a story parents tell their children to keep them in line, he is not a _friend_.

"Why?"

Renee smiles at him again, all her danger and ferocity tucked back behind her calm sweetness. "Ask me sometime how I qualify for the Foxes."

Neil shivers slightly and thinks to himself, _maybe someday._

 

That night on the roof Andrew laughs at him when Neil mentions Betsy. "You met Bee! Such a surprise, you walked out alive." 

Neil scowls at him. He thinks they've done a pretty good job of keeping the others fooled about their history, but it took all of his self-control not to throw Betsy at Andrew while they were still at practice. He doesn't have the patience to laugh about it. "You could've warned me."

Andrew does the laughing for him, and Neil hates, hates, hates the ambrosia. "What fun would that be?"

Neil steals Andrew's cigarette in retaliation, breathing in the smoke and thinking of Cain's bright smile and infamous fall. 

"I could shove you off this roof," Andrew says cheerfully. He pulls out his pack of cigarettes and with a snap of a finger, Neil lights one for him. He doesn't get a thanks, only a dirty look.

Closing his eyes, Neil smiles. "I'd drag you down with me."

 

Their first game comes out of nowhere. Neil doesn't really care about the start of classes. He was around when most of these things were invented, and while he doesn't have a memory quite like Andrew's, he could pass any class offered to him with his eyes closed. No, what Neil cares about at PSU is the Foxes and his first Exy game.

The stadium is alive with fans. Neil watched the pyramids be built, put a brick into the Great Wall of China, held up the roof of the Taj Mahal, but none of these things have left him as breathless as this.

Andrew smacks the back of his head on his way by, muttering, "Junkie," under his breath. It knocks Neil out of his stupor, and he kicks the side of Andrew's shoe in retaliation. The action earns him an eye roll from Andrew and a panicked stare from Nicky and Matt. Neil blinks at them in confusion. 

"How did he touch Andrew without getting killed?" Nicky asks Aaron in rapid German.

Aaron shrugs, looking bored, attention focused on the cheerleaders. "Don't know. Don't care."

Dan had told Neil earlier that Andrew came off his "meds" for games, and despite himself, Neil is glad to see him himself again. The smile gets to be unnerving.

The game starts, and Neil is swept up in the action. It's brutal and violent from the first buzzer: the Foxes slam into the Jackals and fight with all they've got. The sheer aggression lights up the part of Neil that will always be pure demon, and he finds himself pounding the wall with his teammates without even thinking about it. Despite all the infighting and discord, the Foxes function well with each other, playing off each other's strengths, even if they lose the first point. They push their way up the court, and Kevin evens up the score before an all out brawl starts, and Neil grins, vicious underneath his helmet.

Seth gets crushed, and all of a sudden it's Neil's turn to play, to take his place as a Fox. He reminds himself that this is a speck in the terms of his existence, that it means nothing, that he's nothing, but the rush overpowers it and Neil settles firmly into his human skin.

"Ready?" Dan asks him, fierce and determined underneath her helmet. 

"Ready to try," Neil says, and she clacks her racket with him.

"Lets do this." 

Neil takes his spot against the wall, and hears one of the Jackals muttering, "An amateur and a cripple." Neil finds the one that said it, and bares his teeth in their direction. He's about to use just a little bit of power to tie their shoes together when Andrew smashes his racket back against the wall. Obediently, Neil looks over his shoulder and meets his eyes. There's no fake smile lurking under the gold, and Neil feels fiercely, wonderfully alive.

"Hey, Birdie. Time to run. This one's for you." Andrew hits the ball with all that he can and then some, and it flies up the court. Neil chases it with everything he has, slipping in between players and making it up the court before anyone can catch him. He doesn't score, but it's a close thing. He helps Matt get rid of Gorilla, using a twist of power to make sure Matt's punch takes him out of the game for good.

Neil scores twice, and he feels more alive, more in the moment, than he can ever remember. 

They don't win, but when the game is over, Neil isn't angry or disappointed. He feels like he can breathe. When he tells that to Andrew, up on the roof about an hour before they have to leave for some talk show, the angel rolls his eyes and leaves him there.

Neil isn't tired because he doesn't want to be, but he notices that Andrew sleeps most of the way to the studio. When Wymack makes to go wake him up, Neil stands quickly. He's seen the violent way that Andrew reacts when the humans try to wake him and considering he knows why, he'll do his best to prevent it. It's not exactly subtle, but oh well.

Neil stands near him, careful not to loom, and says, "Hey, Andrew, wake up." That part's for show; the real trick comes in a careful brush of essence over Andrew's mind. The angel blinks awake instantly, clear-eyed and calm. 

"I hate you," Andrew tells Neil, stretching out his arms.

Behind him, Neil hears Nicky go, "What the fuck," and pointedly doesn't look in his direction. When he does turn around, Wymack stares at him with something unreadable in his eyes. Neil blinks at him, and Wymack runs a hand through his hair, muttering, "I don't get paid enough for this shit."

Kevin is much harder to wake up and ends up doing laps of the bus to stay awake. Humans are bizarre, Neil thinks to himself.

They make it halfway into the studio before Kathy Ferdinand herself comes out to greet them. Neil freezes at the sight of her, and he senses Andrew do the same. None other than War stands before them, bright, flaming hair, and a smile that spells disaster. The most dangerous of the four horsemen, in Neil's opinion. War starts drama, but then lets the humans destroy each other with no outside assistance.

She doesn't seem to notice them at first, greeting Kevin with a kiss on the cheek, even as Neil feels his panic skyrocket. Then she turns her eyes to Neil, and the surprise there at least is genuine. "Neil Josten, it's been years! I haven't seen you since what, Berlin?" Her grin is devilish, and she gives him a kiss on the cheek that he doesn't move fast enough to avoid.

The others are staring at them, and Neil smothers his panic to reply smoothly, "I'm sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else. We've never met before."

"Of course." Kathy replies, smile turning knowing. "We're going to remedy that though, aren't we? Since, of course, you'll be joining me on the show."

Neil stops breathing altogether. "No. I'm not interested." There's absolutely no way this will end in anything except disaster.

War barrels on, ignoring him entirely. "As of eleven o'clock last night, your name is the third-highest search string for NCAA Exy strikers. That puts you right after Riko and Kevin. How does it feel?"

Neil knows she's going to cause problems, and he can feel Andrew glaring at the side of his head, warning him to be careful, but he plays right into her hand, and with Kevin against him, Neil finds himself in a dressing room before he has time to fight it.

The show starts, and Neil zones out the introductions, frantically running through his options. He doesn't check back in until he's called out on stage, "Introducing Neil Josten, the newest Palmetto Fox!"

Neil puts himself in the spotlight and hopes he can manage to get through this without everything collapsing around him. Judging from War's smile, it isn't likely.

Things become clear the second the Edgar Allan fight song begins to play and Riko Moriyama walks onstage.

It's been 9 months since Riko broke Kevin's hand and nearly eight years since Neil has seen him. There's no possible way Riko can recognize him, he was barely human then, a red-haired, blue-eyed, blood-soaked demon that killed five men. But still, a thrill of fear runs through Neil as Riko pulls Kevin into a too-tight hug.

When Kevin sits back down, he's trembling, and anything Neil feels takes the back seat. He's not Andrew, he didn't strike a deal to protect Kevin, but Kevin is still his. Kevin is his friend in a way, his mentor in a certain light, but most importantly he is a fragile human that Neil needs to protect. He pushes down anything he is feeling, anything that would silence him, and let's his anger grow as Riko lashes out at Kevin and Kevin flinches away. 

A glance from the corner of his eye shows Andrew trapped in his seat, the others pinning him. Andrew hates being touched, hates it, and Neil catches his eye, sends an, _I've got this_ , and hopes that it's enough for Andrew to stop fighting and the others to get off of him.

Riko questions Kevin's abilities to survive off the court and Neil has had enough. He can feel Kathy watching him, waiting for the explosion she must be able to feel coming.

"I thought friends were supposed to cheer each other on," Neil says, giving into his stupid desire to defend Kevin, "Believing in him now is the least you could do after completely abandoning him last winter."

War sits back and doesn't interrupt.

"Kevin chose to leave Edgar Allen," Riko says, smile turning icy. It reminds Neil of Lucifer, of the cold look in his eyes as he took Neil apart. "We mourned his absence but were glad to hear he found a coaching position."

"But you're not happy that he's playing again," Neil bites back. "Isn't that why you transferred to our district? You don't think Kevin should be on the court again, so you'll cut him off at the pass. You'll destroy his chance of making a comeback and make him watch as your team succeeds yet again. You're rubbing his face in everything he's lost, and from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're enjoying it." 

Riko is struggling to maintain his press smile, Neil can tell. "I will ask you only once to tone down that animosity." 

"I can't," Neil says. "I have a bit of an attitude problem." It's suicidal, but it feels amazing, like taking back what should be his. If this is how Andrew feels protecting people, the tendency isn't so confusing anymore.

Kathy steers the conversation slightly, as if looking for a topic that will cause even more violence. Neil doesn't even resent her for it; there's an anger swirling around his essence, bubbling up his throat and biting at his tongue. 

Riko has the nerve to say that they would never take Kevin back anyway, and Neil snaps for good.

"Stop being so selfish," Neil says, and Kathy does a poor job of hiding her delighted smile behind a hand. Kevin pinches Neil's arm in warning, but Neil shrugs him off. "If Kevin's dream has always been to be the best on the court, what right do you have to take it away from him? Why would you ask him to settle for less? The Foxes are giving him a chance to play, whereas you'd relegate him to the sidelines. He has no reason to transfer back." 

"Palmetto State is a waste of his talents," Riko sneers.

"Not as much as Edgar Allen was," Neil snaps back. "Your team's ranked first? Congratulations and big deal. Maintaining a top position is far easier than starting over from the gutters. Kevin is doing that right now. He's facing entirely new schools and learning to play with his less dominant hand. When he masters it, and he will, he'll be better than you could ever have made him. 

"Do you know why?" Neil asks, but he doesn't let Riko answer. "It's not just his natural talent. It's because he's with us. There are only ten Foxes this year. That's one sub for every position. Think about it. Last night we played Breckenridge. They have twenty-seven people on their roster. They can burn through players as fast as they want because they have a pile of replacements. We don't have that luxury. We have to hold our ground on our own."

Riko rolls his eyes, barking something about unearned arrogance, and Neil snarls. It takes everything he has to stay human, to not rip Riko apart right here on the stage.

"No, I think you're scared." Neil laughs softly, and Kevin's hand on his arms would leave bruises if he were human, but Neil doesn't care.

The segment ends, and War is having the time of her life. Neil grabs Kevin and drags him offstage as fast as he can, but they're not quite fast enough to beat Riko.

Riko catches Neil by the shoulders once they're out of sight and throws him into a wall. Neil doesn't so much as flinch, barely feeling the blow. What scares him more is Riko's eyes, as murderous and vengeful as any hell spawn he's ever met, touching that hole of deep, primal fear inside Neil. Riko can't hurt him, not without the right tools, but staring into those eyes, Neil can feel that his time is limited. 

He slams Neil back against the wall once, twice, angry at Neil's lack of reaction. Neil doesn't mind, knows that Riko can't hurt him, not really. When his attention turns to Kevin, that's when he worries, because Kevin is fragile compared to him, a breakable human, and Andrew would be pissed if Neil didn't protect him. He doesn't want to use his abilities, doesn't want to tip Riko or Kevin off to who he really is, but he does the next best thing, and snaps, "Leave him alone."

Riko turns back to him and pins him to the wall by his throat. "Did I give you permission to speak?"

Driven by something he can't really explain, Neil spits in his face.

Riko draws back a fist, and Neil distances himself from his vessel as much as he can. That's when Andrew appears, sliding impossibly between them and pushing Riko back a step, then two. Kevin appears at Neil's side, as he pretends to gasp for air.

"Riko! It's been awhile!"

"We were just talking about you, _angel_."

"With your fists, it seems. Don't touch my things. I don't share." Andrew reaches back, brushing over Neil's shoulder. He pushes him lightly, and Neil gets the idea, grabbing Kevin and hauling him down the hallway. Everything has the slightly unreal quality of terror.

The others talk to him probably, but all Neil can think, on loop in his head is: it's over, it's over, it's over. He'd be a fool to think Riko won't dig until he figures out who he is. Neil knew his time was limited anyway, but it's terrifying to realize that he has even less than he thought.

Andrew reappears, and it's barely enough to stop Neil from vibrating out of his skin. He brushes a hand over Neil's back, but Neil can't seem to restart his breathing. He doesn't need to, not really, but if one of the others notices he's stopped-

Andrew hesitates on his way to Kevin, for just a second, and squeezes the back of Neil's neck in warning. "Breathe," he orders, so Neil does. Andrew waits for a breath to make sure and then keeps walking. He peels Kevin out of Abby's arms. "Kevin, we're going. Right now, okay?" 

He starts hauling Kevin out after him, and Neil follows, like a puppet on a string. Matt congratulates him, and Neil tries to dredge up a smile, but he can't, not knowing it's all over because he couldn't hold his stupid tongue.

Back on campus, Neil sends Andrew a brief image of a cigarette on the roof. Andrew brushes it off, and catches Neil's eye before looking pointedly at Kevin, who's a pale, shaking mess. Neil nods, even as his essence twists. He understands, Kevin is the fragile human, but Neil feels a blink from exploding out of his skin and the only thing he knows to stop it besides violence is Andrew. 

The others order pizza, filling Seth and Allison in on Neil's "epic clapback." Neil's almost expecting it when there's a tentative knock at their door and Nicky pokes his head in.

"Hey, uh, Neil. Andrew wants to see you." Immediately, Neil climbs to his feet and ignores Dan muttering to Matt, _what is it with them?_

He finds Andrew perched on a dresser in front of an open window. Neil shuts the door behind him and walks as close as he dares. Andrew reaches forward and wraps a hand in his hoodie, tugging him even closer so that Andrew can rest their foreheads together.

All of the breath rushes out of Neil in a shuddering gasp, and he closes his eyes. He doesn't make a move to touch Andrew, because he knows how this goes, and he finally feels like he's settled in his own skin. They stay like that for a minute, maybe two, before Andrew shoves him back a step. Neil goes willingly, feeling more steady than he has all day.

"You're a fucking idiot," Andrew snarls through the smile tugging his lips involuntarily up. It's an unnerving combination. "Why are you trying to make my life so hard?"

"I didn't have a choice. You saw."

"I saw you being a suicidal idiot. What happened to wanting to stay alive?"

Neil shrugs, not meeting Andrew's eyes. "It wasn't fair, I couldn't watch him do that to Kevin."

"A demon concerned about fairness, what a strange world," Andrew says mockingly. "Give Riko a couple of days and he'll know everything about you. What will you do then?"

Neil stiffens his shoulders as best he can. "You don't have to protect me from him. It's not safe for you, he knows what you _are_."

Andrew laughs, and Neil flinches at how unnatural it sounds. "We have a deal, Neil. Don't you try to run out now."

Neil shakes his head. "I'm not, but-"

"Good. You're coming to Columbia tonight, way back to Eden we go. Meet us at 9."

"Okay," Neil gives up and leaves Andrew there as he swallows down his next piece of ambrosia.

"What did he want?" Matt asks him when he slips back into their room. The others pretend not to be listening in.

"To talk," Neil says, and turns his attention pointedly back to the movie.

At quarter to 9, he changes into the clothes Nicky brought him last time. When he walks back into the common room, he finds Seth and Allison, also dressed to go out. He slips past them into the hallway, walking towards Andrew's room. Seth and Allison are talking with a group of guys, and the door to the girls' room swings open at the same time as Andrew's does.

Neil takes his place next to Kevin and watches as Dan asks whether Seth and Allison are really going out. They dismiss her, and Dan turns her attention to Neil. When she realizes what's going on, she freezes. "You're not going with them?" She demands.

Neil shrugs, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. "Last time wasn't so bad," he lies through his teeth.

Andrew laughs. "We're going to have fun!"

"Neil, you don't have to go. Don't let him push you around." Dan crosses her arms, looking furious. The protectiveness is almost nice.

"It's fine. I can take care of myself."

"Aw, Neil, lying isn't nice," Andrew says to him in German. Neil glares at him, but responds in kind, ignoring Nicky's blatant horror.

"I'm capable of surviving on my own, I don't need to be coddled."

Andrew laughs again. "I wouldn't dream of it!"

They leave, and Neil pretends he can't feel Dan's eyes boring into his back. By the time they reach Columbia, Neil is wound tight with nerves. He doesn't think Andrew will drug him again, hopes that he won't at least, but there's still a niggle of uncertainty.

The big sign flashing Eden's leaves him just as breathless as last time. Full circle indeed.

The night passes in a blur of colors and noise, Neil drinking moderately, not enough to even make him tipsy, while the others race their way to smashed. They make it back to the Columbia house, and they're about to head inside when Aaron's phone rings.

"Seth's dead."

Neil blinks in shock and tries to appear upset. He's pretty sure he fails miserably, but the others don't notice. Humans die, over and over again. It stopped upsetting him, sometime after Cain, because there was no other way to survive. Neil meets Andrew's eyes in the rearview mirror and knows he understands.

He waits for Andrew to herd the others inside and slumps onto the porch steps. Andrew lowers himself beside him and hands him a lit cigarette.

"It was Riko, wasn't it," Neil says flatly.

Andrew blows out a stream of smoke, tilting his head back to stare up at the stars.

"Undoubtedly."

"I'm willing to gamble with my life. I won't gamble with theirs. Their time is short enough as is."

"Riko won't risk hurting anyone else, not if he wants to play us come October. He wants to destroy Kevin on the court and he can't do that if we're under the minimum number of players," Andrew says idly, flicking ash onto the gravel and grinding it into dust with his heel. Neil tries to find words for the guilt eating him up, for cutting short the life of an admitted asshole, but still an uninvolved human. 

Andrew switches the cigarette to his far hand, and hooks his fingers in the collar of Neil's shirt, tugging just hard enough that he feels it. "Stop it. That's enough. You aren't going anywhere. You're staying here." 

Neil finds it in himself to nod, and Andrew hands him a key. It's to the house, and it doesn't mean anything, not really. No lock would be enough to keep Neil out, but it's a token, if nothing else. A tiny piece of trust.

Neil closes his fist around it and breathes the smell of smoke deep, deep, deep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to follow me on tumblr at [ andrewjos10](https://andrewjos10.tumblr.com)!


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